


Chicago

by PercySnail



Category: 24 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercySnail/pseuds/PercySnail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people, one city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicago

**Author's Note:**

> A two part story; one from Karen's point of view; and another form Bill's.

She spends most her time in flight deep in case files; trying to distract herself from the “what ifs” of the risk she has taken. Her work, as always holds a certain refuge, a place to flee the treacherous twists and turns her mind takes.

They have only been a – them - for two months now. Two months; enough time for affection and feelings to surface (again, after all this time) but, she wonders. Is it enough time for as bold a move as this? 

It had been an impulse; a spontaneous reaction to his murmured “I miss you” on the phone last night. As if instinct had caused her to pick up the phone again at the end of their conversation, and book a flight the next afternoon to Chicago. She hadn’t fully realized what she’d done until it was too late; too late to talk herself out of it. 

She supposes she could have cancelled it. Backed out, gotten a refund, and Bill would have never been the wiser. Never known that she had ached for him so much, in one simple week apart, that she had booked a flight to see him. She had chided herself at that notion though. She had made a promise to him, but mostly to herself, that this time, she would let her heart lead sometimes. Even when her brain tried to talk her out of it, she had vowed to try her best to follow what her heart said.

And tonight, all of Karen, heart included, were touching down in Chicago.

She gathers her small carry on from the compartment, grateful that she has splurged on business class and is able to deplane at the head of the line. A quick stop in the bathroom of the airport, she runs her fingers through her hair, reapplies a layer of lipstick, and tries to look away from the flush on her cheeks. It is fear, she knows, fear and anxiety…and yet, some piece of it; some part of that blood racing through her is excitement. At seeing him, hearing him; without the miles of bad connections between them. Some part is this thrill.

She grabs a taxi, easy to find on a weeknight at O’Hare, and gives the driver his hotel name. She is mostly calm as they stop and go; the never ending Chicago rush hour a welcome distraction. She fields some work phone calls; deals with Jason, the ever nosy assistant asking a slew of questions - how long can they expect her to be away for (not long, one night, maybe two); should he forward important calls (what do you think Jason, do you want to deal with them?), if there’s an emergency (then call her, that’s why she has this phone), Mr. Buchanan has called, he said your cell was off (thank you Jason, good night Jason). 

As the city skyline brightens, the twinkle becoming an inferno of lights, she feels her pulse begin to quicken. The excitement fades, replaced by a dull sense of nausea as they crawl closer to the hotel. The what if’s begin; a steady onslaught beginning to mount. What if this was a mistake; what if this isn’t welcome? He has told her how lonely he is; preferring to come back to his room every night instead of joining his colleagues at the bar; but what if this is the night he has plans? What if she arrives, and he’s not there; or worse – what if he is there, but doesn’t want her to be? What if this was too much, too soon, and this won’t be a welcome surprise, but a terrible presumption on her part that he would want her there at all? 

She feels the fear rising again; the panic that the risk has been too great. A quick “pull over” to the driver; she pays him, explaining that she prefers to walk the rest of the way. Karen is familiar with Chicago; had spent a portion of her graduate schooling here. She knows her way.

As the cool air of the lake hits her face, she straightens herself, walking towards the center of the city. A few deep breaths in and out, and she begins to chuckle at her absurd attack in the car - what if’s indeed. She has made no secret to Bill, or to herself, that in this matter, the polished exterior of Karen Hayes tends to fade; replaced by someone she barely recognizes. Her confidence erodes; and she forgets. Forgets that she can take this risk; and that if the worst happens, she will still be fine, because she always is. 

Forgets that if she is not welcome, then it is his loss. 

As her heels click along the sidewalk, she feels the panic begin to fade; feels the ribbon of intrepidness unfurl in her gut. She picks up the pace, hopeful to keep this momentum up, and as she propels herself forward, she finds the excitement begin to return again.

In minutes, she is in the lobby of his hotel; a quick glance in the mirror of the elevator to straighten her hair, and she boards. She rides up, pulse racing just slightly. She bites her lip as the elevator dings on his floor, stepping out into the plush carpet of the hallway. She double-checks the room number she has jotted down; grateful that he’d given it to her as a just in case. 

Her steps are silent, muffled, as she approaches the door to his room. Karen closes her eyes, drawing a deep breath in and out, before taking the final step. A rap on the door, and she hears rustling, and the “just a minute” mumbled through the wall. Footsteps approaching, the slide of the lock disengaging, and her heart is pounding. The creak of the door opening; she forces her eyes up and – 

\- god, she’d forgotten a lot today; but mostly she’d forgotten what that smile did to her. The door opens fully, a surprised, “Karen?” falling from his lips, and she can see it now. The crooked grin, the happy crinkles around his eyes, the genuine affection and happiness, and surprise on his face as he greets her with the full wattage of a smile. It’s all so familiar, yet so new; something she wonders if she could ever tire of; this way he looks at her. 

She knows she is echoing it back; that her face must look similar as she stares back at him. A smartass comment is all she can come up with; a “were you expecting some other woman?” volleyed his way.

As he tugs her through the door, he laughs, still speechless that she is here; with him – miles from their city, she’s come here. She knows it is the last thing he expected.

The door shuts behind her, and she meets his eyes again. Karen steps closer to him, tugging on the worn t-shirt Bill is wearing. He pulls her in, still smiling that impossible grin; and wraps his arms around her. As their lips meet, she tells herself. It was worth the risk.


End file.
